


My heaven and my hell

by redpenfics



Category: Bon Jovi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 12:58:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16368086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redpenfics/pseuds/redpenfics
Summary: It's time they met for the first time since going seperate ways...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine the situation Jon and Richie meet and have this little conversation... Another fic story of mine. Enjoy!

The door never felt so heavy. His hands were all sweaty as he was unlocking it, trembling fingers feeling the cold surface of the key as it was being turned. One heavy sigh. Then another. One last time he raked his hand through his hair. 

_Time to face my heaven and my hell._

The door creaked quietly and light breeze kissed his face when he left it opened wide. He couldn't look him in the eye so he just smiled and gestured invitingly. When the other man didn't move he looked up, surprised. Richie was gazing at him silently, a shadow of a smile hidden in the corners of his mouth. Jon noticed the wrinkles, the puffy eyes. He was fading as much as he was dying. It brought him just a moment of relief. His chest tightened.

"Hi."

"Hi."

The awkward silence was driving him crazy as much as the annoying dryness in his mouth.

"Come in. Please."

Jon couldn't force himself to touch him just yet, even if it meant a pat on the back or a handshake. He knew it was so stupid he got even more angry at himself. Richie seemed to understand because he just smiled and entered his house, leaving the familiar scent behind.

Jon inhaled deeply. Richie was wearing his old cologne. Like nothing ever changed. Jon felt the unwanted burning sensation under his half-closed eyelids. 

Richie was looking at him expectantly again. Jon almost burst out laughing. He was on the verge of it now. A deadly mixture of emotions overwhelming him.

"There," he choked and pointed to the adjoining room.

As he was following the brownish mop of spiky hair, the leather jacket tight on the body he knew so well, thoughts were flooding his mind like a flock of crows. After some texts and emails back and forth, they finally decided to see eye to eye. It’d been almost five long years and too many sleepless nights, the unfinished songs hidden in the drawers of his desk. His shrink told him that writing everything down would help to process the emotional pain. So he did. Some letters even made it into the songs he’d later attribute to the integrity of the band or to artistic interpretation. No matter how blatantly obvious the lyrics were, Jon was never asked the question. 

It was like an open secret. An open wound that wouldn’t heal for months until he broke down completely, until he lost all his voice and all his power and became a shadow of himself. The fact that Richie was coping as badly, giving in to his addictions, was of little comfort to him. It even reinforced the odd feeling of both of them being caught in a free fall, twisting and turning helplessly. It was Richie who made the decision and left but Jon knew his reasons and knew them long before it happened. He just wouldn’t and couldn't bear the thought draining him to dry; instead he childishly closed his eyes to their impending doom. 

The damage was done, the hope was vain and the price was paid. Now they were reunited for their induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It was more than a dream come true. It was a chance they knew they couldn’t waste. So they got together again. The walls came crushing down. It was the time.


	2. Chapter 2

They sat opposite each other in silence, somehow too shy to strike up a conversation. Jon had already set out two glasses and a bottle of the rose wine he was currently promoting with his son, his pride and joy. Richie smiled at the sight.

“It was Jesse’s idea,” Jon whispered, even though he knew that Richie was probably familiar with this family endeavor. After all, Jon made sure the damn wine was all over the Internet.

“It does look tempting. Let me taste this drink of the gods,” Richie chuckled and Jon laughed along, suddenly relieved that weirdness died down a little. He poured them some wine and hesitated for a moment before holding up his glass. 

"Let's toast to old friends," he said, trying to hide his nervousness behind a forced smile.

Richie stood up, too, and raised his glass to him. They just stared at each other for a few agonizing seconds before the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile.

“Here's to fate bringing us back together. “

They took a big gulp and sat down again. Richie was running his fingers up and down the stem of his glass in an unconscious caress, deep in thought.

”Honestly, didn’t think that day would ever come,” he finally spoke up, his eyes still fixed on the almost empty glass. “It’s been so long. And if it wasn’t for that induction thing…”

Jon ground his teeth so tight a muscle in his jaw twitched.

“I tried to reach you earlier but somehow it never really worked out.”

Richie looked up and gave out a bittersweet laugh.

“I know. I have been following you in the media. I didn’t text you, either, because I could see you were very busy telling everyone you moved on and were happy so I didn’t want to spoil your fun with my presence. After all, I moved on, too.”

Richie’s voice was steady but tinted with hurt and badly masked anger, which set Jon’s blood on fire. He desperately tried to control himself and stay cool, even though all he wanted was to scream, to yell all his own pain out, to put his fist in that face and get his temporary relief until he’d break down and cry because it hurt so much. He also knew he would never give in to these urges and expose himself to such a vulnerable position without hating himself afterwards, so he had to keep on pretending he didn’t suffer anymore.

“Do I have to remind you your own words? What you said to the press? You were quite busy having fun with your new girlfriend and travelling the world.”

“Man, it seems it’s not only me who needs to have their memory jogged a little. Dealing with all that fake shit wasn’t fun but you didn’t make it any easier for me. I’d find another jab here and there and wonder if you really meant that or it was lost in translation again,” Richie said with a crooked smile. “And I met Ori only after we split. She’s never had to do with any of that.”

“You’d find someone else anyway.”

Richie raised his eyebrows in a cynical surprise creeping over his face.

“Oh, you jealous?”

Jon glanced up and right into his eyes with a daring stare.

“Not at all. I’ve never loved Dot more.”

Richie smirked.

“Maybe let others have some love in their lives, too?”

“You’ve always had women around you.”

“You know it wasn’t a real deal. I’ve always wanted a companion truly in my heart.”

Jon frowned and let out a sigh.

“I guess I was lucky.”

“Yes, you were,” Richie nodded.

“But you always aimed at those big names. With two big egos it rarely works out.”

“Says who?” Richie asked incredulously and laughed out loud.

“Like what?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Richie shrugged and got particularly interested in his glass again. “Five years gone. A few more faces on stage. I got it. Not like it matters anymore.”

“Wait! It does. I know I can be an asshole sometimes but I didn’t abandon my brothers when they needed me. I didn’t run away in the middle of the fucking tour while the whole world was watching! I didn’t even have time to look for another guitarist!” Jon said with a raised voice, and looked back at him, his eyes burning. “You think I’d just call it quits?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Boy, that escalated quickly!” Richie chuckled ironically. “Exactly what I’d expected. Sooner or later punishing the bad boy for checking out. And I think it was you who said that being in a rock band is not a life sentence!” 

Jon glared at him but didn’t say anything.

“I needed to be with my family, be there for Ava! You know that Heather has been struggling for years,” Richie continued with a note of weary irritation in his voice.

Jon made a disbelieving sound at the back of his throat.

“And I know it wasn’t the reason, far from it! I know it was hard for you but Ava is not a little child anymore. Her grandparents take good care of her and that’s how it worked when you two were divorcing and it was much worse… while Dot and I were nursing you back to life. Don’t you think I deserve the truth after five fucking years?! It’s not that you woke up one day and decided you’re done because suddenly you feel fucking miserable! Fuck the band, fuck the fans,it's all about you, isn't it?!”

“Ow! It seems I've already been found guilty and worth of hell fires even before I came to beg for an absolution. Is there anything left to say, Mr Know It All? But okay, here’s my confession. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” Richie replied with a sneer. “I told you a million times and I'll say once again - I didn’t want that fucking album so fast and certainly didn’t want the tour just afterwards. You promised us a longer break but changed your mind as soon as that fucking bid showed up at the table! Talking about putting yourself first!” He laughed bitterly. “Can’t you fucking see Aftermath was my own therapy? I needed to let it out since I was left out anyway!”

“Wait, what?!” Jon exclaimed in an odd, high-pitched voice, completely baffled. “You were the one who had absolutely zero motivation and was steering clear of it for months! Always coming with a convenient excuse not to work on that fucking album so you left me with no choice and now you have the nerve to take it out on me, playing the victim again!”

“It's not even about the last album, you kept pushing me aside for years! It was subtle at first, you called it 'being relevant' or whatever bullshit it was, but then it’d fucking hurt, you know? Suddenly, I found out I was the fifth wheel in the happy bunch so I figured out I could just get out of it as well. Not that you’d care anyway.”

Jon gasped, clearly taken aback.

“You, you! You told me you wanted ‘artistic freedom’ so I gave you one. Turned to those who actually contributed to that fucking album more than just putting your name in the credits. We’ve been doing it for years and you never complained much but suddenly it started to bother you! But no, instead of talking to me, openly and honestly, one fine day you just took off and disappeared without a trace! That's what brothers do, huh?"

Jon felt his lungs shrink almost painfully and make it harder to breathe. He didn't remember craving a cigarette so much since he gave up smoking two years before. He turned to Richie and continued his angry rant, no longer in control of his voice. 

"Always running away when things don’t go exactly as you expected! This time, though, you just screwed it up. I couldn’t let you come back later on… not after what you did. You fucking stabbed me right in the back!No one ever betrayed me the way you did and you were my brother, my best friend, my...”

Jon felt some strange dizziness in his head, overwhelmed with emotion after finally letting it out, loud and clear. He tightened his lips, his nostrils flared with every breath as he was trying to calm down but the nervous trembling wouldn’t go away.


	4. Chapter 4

Richie looked at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Hell, didn't I try to talk to you! But you were always busy with writing another hit, chasing another dream! I was sick and tired of hearing about that fucking football team. People I loved were dying or leaving, my own world was crumbling at my feet, I was falling apart and needed to get my shit together, I needed more time on my own! I needed to process all that pain. So I did, whether you liked it or not.”

Jon knotted his eyebrows and looked at him incredulously.

“And this is exactly what you were doing - hooking up with another girlfriend of yours and indulging yourself while I was working my ass off to keep the band going! I had to hire other guys to write songs because you were constantly unavailable. I was there for you but you can't do shit when the other person doesn't want your help. You didn’t even pretend to be particularly interested in that album or anything that has to do with Bon Jovi. You said you wanted more time aside for your solo project so I fucking respected that. That bid has nothing to do with that.”

He flinched when he heard the other man clapping his hands.

“Mercy, mercy, mercy! So merciful of you! I knew you’d do your thing anyway. So since we are at it, let me tell you something. You turned our little band into a money-making machine. More, more and more! Never enough! The problem is, I grew tired of living on the road and being a dancing clown. I wanted to go home and spend time with my family. I wanted to share my music, who I am. Never been more proud than I am of this fucking little record of mine! I finally had a chance to go back to the roots and jam in the studio, not act out those lame-ass solos for ten seconds on stage I had to share with others anyway. A fucking backup guitarist much, huh? Heck, it’s not even about the bloody guitars. I’m not only a guitarist, for fuck’s sake! I had my own band before I met you.”

“Oh, so the old wound opened again,” Jon observed sarcastically. “You were the one who was so fucking eager to join my band. You were fucking after me the whole night, shit like ‘I want to be your guitarist’ and stuff,” his smirk quickly faded, only to be replaced by a smouldering anger. “Until you got bored of it, obviously, and decided to bail out at last minute. At least now nobody keeps me guessing whether they will make it to the stage sober or not. Or make it to the stage at all.”

Richie’s face tensed. 

“You think I wasn’t trying to repent for my sins and kick the drink? It’s not that one day I forgot to space out the shit in my life and drowned in it. It’s just… when I got sober I realized how much I’d missed and desperately wanted to get that missed time back. And you… you didn’t trust me anymore. We somehow lost it and I was tired of our fights and constantly proving it to you.”

Jon felt his chest tightening but said nothing, stubbornly clenching his teeth. 

“It’s never been easy to be your shadow but you must admit I was doing it pretty well for years,” Richie’s voice had regained its bitter, mocking edge. “And it was you who called me that one spring day and told me that you missed me and wanted to meet up and try again.”

Jon still didn’t say a word so Richie continued strenuously, trying to gather his thoughts into a coherent order.

“ I’ll never forget what you and Dorothea did for me. That you cared about me like I was a fucking child. The night we both cried. Those brief moments of consciousness from those times when whole weeks were cut out of my life like they never happened, yes, they are haunting me to this day,” his voice cracked slightly. “Sometimes I wish I could forget you because it still hurts so fucking much to think about us. When there was you and me and the rest of the world.”


	5. Chapter 5

“You fucking broke my heart. I couldn’t fucking sing in the shower. I couldn’t fucking sing at all,” Jon’s words sounded indistinct to his ears, like they were coming from far away and not from his own mouth. “Never thought that once you left, it would be so hard. I don’t even know how I made it to the end of the tour but I remember that fucking call the night before it all changed. It took me a few days to realize it wasn’t just a bad joke. That you actually meant what you yelled in my face the other day. That you didn’t want to do this anymore.”

“You think it was any easier for me? You can’t imagine how much it cost me and that it took me quite a few sleepless nights to finally leave it all behind me. But hey, Phil’s doing a great job. And John, your new right-hand man, is getting some spotlight, too. You’re still selling out arenas like nothing’s ever changed.”

The words were ringing in Jon’s ears long after Richie had said them. He looked at Richie’s hand, which was still gripping the stem of his glass, and then lifted his gaze to his face.

“Everything’s changed! I fucking wanted to stop, to kill that dream, but John helped me to go through it. He told me this band still has so much to give and there’s actually life after you. The fans supported us… supported me, when I sounded like shit and couldn’t stop thinking that what was then wasn’t here now. You can’t blame them for being loyal. You left it behind without looking twice. You didn’t even have the guts to face me and tell me to go to hell,” Jon let out a funny laugh, a mixture of disbelief and hurt. “You just disappeared!” He snapped his fingers. “But it’s OK now. I understand you, I really do. Things happened, maybe not in the best of ways, but what's done cannot be undone. I guess we both share the blame and need some more time to work things out. We used to say Bon Jovi is too big to let it go... and we didn't mean only the band." 

Richie raised his eyebrows and nodded silently, trying to process what Jon had just said. He couldn’t ignore the feelings building up inside of him, like a huge boulder had just fallen of his chest. He took a deep breath and looked at Jon expectantly.

“Let’s have a drink first and then we can pick up where we left off,” Jon continued without looking at him, while filling up the glasses with wine.

Richie smiled at him. “No, I think I actually have a better idea,” he hesitated for a moment before he slowly rose to his feet, “Let’s start again. Long time no see, Jon. What’s up, man?”

Richie approached Jon, who gasped in surprise, when he pulled him into a tight embrace. They both laughed, eyes blurred with tears but gleaming with some strange, inexplicable joy.

“I missed you, Rich. I fucking missed you,” Jon whispered, gazing into brown eyes, their faces just inches apart.

“God knows I missed you, Jon. And I’m sorry,” Richie replied in a soft voice. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Jon smiled and caressed his cheek tenderly. “And I’m thinking...,” he paused. “You wanna stay longer? I have guitars and there’s more wine if you want.” 

Richie grinned.

“Oh, and now you're talking!”


End file.
